Mishka In Wonderland
by MishkaJokeress
Summary: People said she was crazy, laughing at her all the time. Mishka Nightshade is in denial of her insanity, but her strong will draws in a new crowd. Or shall I say, a clown crowd?
1. In Transit

**Disclaimer! I don't own any of the Dark Knight Characters or, well, anything really. I only own Mishka.**

**Chapter 1: In transit**

_**"Will you walk a little faster?" Said the whiting to the snail.**_

_** - The Lobster Quadrille, Franz Ferdinand**_

Mishka sat on an open bench in the middle of Gotham National Park, her long, ebony, curly hair hung over her shoulders like a waterfall. Her pale skin cascaded a glow from her body. Her electric green eyes slowly traced over a tree's silhouette as the sun fell. The breeze was cool and crisp, like newly washed sheets. The air smelled so clean. Inside her mind was a bunch of tiny voices.

Will you won't you, will you, won't you, won't you join the dance? Mishka stood up, giving a look of scants. She turned on her heel; her red tank top looked like blood in the sunlight. The wind blew harshly over her, her hair dancing in the wind like it was part of it. Mishka ran against the wind, her mind becoming cloudy from all the voices beckoning her to join the "dance."

"I would not, could not, would not, could not, would not join the dance." Mishka replied aloud as she strutted forward. Her eyes scanning the area around her. Behind her she heard footsteps, kind of hop-skipping towards her. "It's nothing...Just my mind playing tricks on me again..." She thought to herself. To her surprise the steps quickened. She shrugged them off again. Mishka's could feel her muscles tensing.

What is that behind me? She thought again, turning swiftly around scanning. Her eyes shifted furiously.

Nothing.


	2. the university

Chapter 2: The University

Mishka sat behind her desk, the University teacher preaching a bunch of useless crap about the Economy. It's wasn't that Mishka didn't care it was the fact that there was nothing that citizens could do that actually mattered. Of course, that didn't stop her teacher. Her eyes wondered away to the outside. She admired the way trees; their leaves turning multicolored. She longed to be out there instead of in here.

"_C'mon Mishka, let me out."_ A voice echoed through her head. Mishka twitched her head slightly, the voice seemed high pitched, and it almost sounded like Kerli's. Kerli and Emilie Autumn were Mishka's favorite singers.

"No, Lace." She whispered. The man sitting to her right glanced at her; Mishka shifted uncomfortably and cleared her throat.

"_Why not? You let everyone else out!" _The voice known as Lace complained.

"No I don't, you're the only voice in my head!" She growled. This time the man looked at her all the way, looking a bit disturbed. Mishka's cheeks reddened deeply and she slide down into her seat to hide in shame. Lace laughed and then grew silent, which gave Mishka some relief at least.

Joker's POV

The Joker sauntered in through the University's main entrance, his tongue darting out of his mouth to lick his painted lips. He subconsciously spun his knife in his hand as he hop-skipped forward. His wavy, chin length green blonde hair fell in his face, his cobalt eyes glancing every which way.

_Where is every, ah, everyone…? _ He thought, giggling quietly. Finally, there was a spark of life in the office, a woman shuffling through papers and talking to someone on the phone. _Fantastic!_

The Joker practically skipped into the office, one of his henchmen had carelessly kicked the door open. The woman flinched but didn't look up, instead, she continued to pop her gum loudly and smile with a series of loud "yea-huh's."

_What the-? _The Jokers head cocked to the side and his brows drew together before letting out an insanely long laugh. The woman looked up, her large, blue eyes widening as she dropped the phone and gasped.

"Sur-_prize!" _ The Joker laughed and then licked his lips again, his leg bobbing up and down as he gave a slight gesture to kill her. The henchman to his right didn't hesitate to kill her; he partially hoped it would be quick and painless. With that the Joker skipped forward, grabbed the microphone and spoke.


	3. Memory

Mishka had never felt so angry at her teacher; he was being so God awful boring! The only relief from the boredom was to either fall asleep or stare at the clock and pray for time to quicken; which it never did-not for Mishka at least. She sighed, relaxing into her seat, her eyes wondered around the room, trying to pin point anyone and everyone who was sleeping. Her eye brows came together in pure disbelief.

_Oh you have got to be kidding me! How can no one be asleep?_ She thought to herself, groaning a little louder than what she intended to.

"Is there something you want to say Ms. Nightshade?" The teacher asked sarcastically and gave her a glare.

"_Yeah, it's called retirement old man!" _Lace said sarcastically inside her Mishka's head.

"Uh, no sir, that wasn't me that groaned." She lied, arching her eyebrow. The teacher sniffled, turning on his heel and continued to write down a bunch of useless equations that no one was going to remember, or use.

_You know, Lace, you shouldn't even be here._ She chose to not speak out loud this time.

"_Oh right, _I_ shouldn't be here. I was the first one here, or do you not remember?" _Lace replied, her voice echoing annoyance. Mishka paused and sighed.

_I thought we agreed to never talk about this?_

"_Well, you know what, Mishka. Honestly we had it better with _him _then we do here. I mean, at least when we were with him we didn't have debt."_

_Have you forgotten why I'm even here? When our sister was murdered who protected you? Me, that's right. It was me who got us out of that Asylum, and it was me who got us here. _

Silence; dead silence. Mishka sighed,knowing it had to be hard. It was true; she was only a personality whereas Lace was the real name of the body that held them both. About six years back Lace had gotten in deep with one of Gotham's most notorious gangs, taking a job as a body guard because of her previous station in the Marines. Lace had retired because of Mishka. Lace was tough, and intelligent; she never missed a step, but she was never predictable…

_She remembered that it was dark, cold and she was with her sister. They had gone out to a nightclub, just to have fun. They were laughing, the smile on Anna clearly present; it made Lace smile. The two girls made their way down an alleyway, clinging to each other as they laughed, reminiscing on old memories. Suddenly she was pushed away from Anna, her head hitting the brick structure of a building. Lace cried out, wincing but never taking her eyes off of Anna. The man had gotten his filthy hands on her, ripping away her shirt to reveal the white bra that held her breasts from being exposed. Lace felt enraged, lunging at the attacker with a snarl, her body mass forcing him onto the hard ground beneath them. _

"_Anna, run! Go!" She ordered as she smashed her fist into his face, feeling his nose crunching beneath her knuckles. The man grunted, his fist colliding with her side. Lace let out a small cry, Anna watched helplessly, hesitating for a minute before impacting with a solid object in her path. She grunted, hearing someone laughing hysterically._

"_At-ta-ta." Someone clicked there tongue. "Now Charles, is this any way to treat a lady?" The man asked. Lace paused, watching the attacker's face go from enraged to utterly fearful._

"_B-boss." He stuttered, leaving Lace baffled. He pushed her to the side and flew up, now in an upright position. "It's not what it looks like boss, I swear."_

"_You know, Charles, you shouldn't-ah swear." The boss laughed and shot Charles mercilessly. "Now, who forced me to shoot my own man? Hm, was it you doll? No? How 'bout you, Tiger?"_

_Lace just glared at him and panted as the adrenaline pulsed through her. She refused to answer him. Out of a lack of patience the man pulled out a gun and put it to Anna's head. She screamed._

"_It was me, god dammit! Leave my fucking sister out of this!" Lace blurted out. The man stepped into the light, a scar forever embedded into him in the shape of a smile. He had smeared clown makeup on, and his eyes were dark, too dark to see the color of them. He laughed softly._

"_And how do you suppose I, ah, deal with this?" He asked, his tongue darting out to moisten his lips. Lace grew silent, then looked at her sister._

"_Let me take her place."_


	4. Taken Hostage

Lace Harper sat in the corner of her dark room, the wallpaper beginning to peel, revealing the grey concrete beneath it. The carpet was stained with blood, her arms torn with angry scars which burned like fire. Her dark hair was matted, her face painted with the messy war paint that the clown prince of crime had smeared all over his face. She felt her body twitch, being stiff from being confined in the _only_ dark room inside of her own mind.

Lace smacked her lips together in impatience. She stood up, the itchy gash in her side getting irritated by the dirty bandages that engulfed her arms, legs, and torso. She made her way slowly to the only window in the room, which was barred with thick steel bars and sharp barbed wire along the outside of the windows just in case she actually made it through the steel. Where would she have gone, anyway? She was trapped inside of her _mind_. On top of that, she was stuck until Mishka let her go.

The only lighting in the room was a small kerosene lamp; the lights of the flame flickered, giving a mesmerizing tone in her monotone life. _Soon, Mishka, soon._ She thought to herself, the slight smirk that spread across her lips gave her a more sinister look. Her time of freedom would come, be it soon or far away from her.

* * *

><p>Mishka sighed, burying her head in her hands. She was so tired of this class. It had only been about fifteen minutes since the last outburst from Lace. Usually she couldn't get her to shut up. Truthfully, she didn't mind it, or at least not all the time. Lace had been the only fun thing in her life, well, besides The Big Bang Theory, anyway. She loved that show, always brought a smile to her face. Her eyes glanced up at the clock quickly. One minute left. Mishka gathered her things, standing up and turning. She only made it about halfway out of the isle until the intercom bell sounded. She breathed out, looking up.<p>

"_**GOOD even-ing students of…well, whatever. I'm on a, ah, a mission, and you're going to help me. It's time to show Gotham its true colors, and I'm going to show it to them. Inside each, ah, of your class closets is a little, ah, present. Inside the present is a detonator to another class, now, the, ah, the gas bomb is filled with carbon monoxide. The first class to detonate a bomb wins their life. And, ah, remember. He! I'm a man of my word. Ha-ha-ha!" **_

Mishka gasped, her eyes dilating as shivers ran down her spine. She darted for the door as all out panic started appearing. She slammed the door open, quickly closing the door as the teacher screamed her name, telling her to get back in the classroom. He looked utterly distraught; his eyebrows arched and extended beyond the point of no return. His eyes widened; staring at her like she was insane-which she very well could have been. She convulsed some, a migraine coming on suddenly.

"Oh, no you don't, Lace. Get back into the bed and sit your ass down!" She growled. Lace scoffed and brushed her off. Mishka sighed and slammed into the door only to feel pain in her hands. She drew back with a sharp inhale. She groaned, turning on her heel and walked cautiously toward another exit.

_ There has to be an opening here somewhere, right?_ She asked herself, her eyes darting to each of the doors, hoping to find at least one opening. She walked down to the main hallway, stopped and exhaled softly. Just a few feet and around the corner was the main office. She had to be careful, if he saw her and recognized her she'd be dead, there would be no doubt about that. She began walking toward the office, peering in from behind the corner; her breathing became shaky, her heart fluttering. There he was. His purple suit was the first thing she saw, his back was to her. His green tinted hair fell messily to his shoulders. His gloved hand clutched his knife to his side. She could still hear his insane giggling. She snuck a little closer, the urge to see what he was looking at was eating away at her. She narrowed her eyes to look at the screen, gasping at what she saw. Her hand flew to her mouth to keep the scream in, but that didn't stop Lace from laughing. Her world was spinning; overwhelming nausea drew her into overriding terror. She leaned on the wall for support as she slid out of visual view. She needed to get out, get away. She sucked in a lungful of air and darted for the door, biting her lip as she silently reassured her that _he_ wouldn't see her.

"Well hell-o, Lace," His voice called out. She stopped and cursed.

_ Of course it had to be this time that I actually had to lie to myself, right? Dammit!_

Mishka turned around with a glare, shifting her weight to one hip, arching her back slightly as if to intimidate him when really all he was doing was catching a quick glance at her "girls."

"It's Mishka, actually. Mishka Nightshade, Lace's…away," She retorted, her lips curling lightly in disgust. He giggled and did a slight skip-hop action toward her. She backed up a step as he sauntered closer, his tongue darting out to lick his scarred lips. The Joker ran a gloved hand through his hair which looked to be either greasy or wet.

With a harsh jerk he was on her. His hand cupped the back of her neck, drawing her in. Her nose wrinkled with the scent of gasoline, smoke, and harsh, dried blood. She struggled, her hands balling up into hard fists and pushing him away, her body squirming. How could this possibly get any worse?


	5. Trapped

Chapter 5

Of course, Mishka knew how to defend herself; she wouldn't have made it that far in the Marines had she not known how to do so. And it was right about now that she'd do something but the sharp blade that was biting into her neck right now made it very hard to do so. She glared at him, her cheeks flushing. Her mind began to blur, the only thing she really noticed was that her breathing was heavy and quick.

_ You. Have. To. Let. Me. _Out_. Now._ Lace's voice sounded enraged, and Mishka could practically feel the loathing secreting from her mind. Mishka sighed and reluctantly let the pissed girl out, her mind blacking out. Her muscles seemed to create a ripple as Lace ripped through the barrier; her eyes bearing down at the clown that was beaming up at her. Without warning her right hand bolted up, barely grazing his mandible as she brought her arm down. Lace gripped the back of his neck, hurtling him forward, his frontal bone colliding with hers with a loud _thunk_.

Lace felt the bite of the hungry blade as it sank deeply into her neck as she hurtled them both toward each other. Blood oozed out of the gash, feeling warm and trickling down her neck like a river. She cupped it with her right hand, swinging with her left. She managed to hit his temporal bone, knocking him of balance , of course, that didn't stop him from laughing hysterically. And that, overall, frustrated her to no end. Lace didn't know why but he always sounded high whenever he laughed, and every now and then his laughs would start to sound like a drunken squirrel. The memory of one of the times that she made him laugh made her smile, but she knocked herself out of that trance quickly. Once the Joker was done with his laughing fest he looked at her, wagging his fingers and clicking his tongue.

"Oh, got a little fight in you, I like that. So, Mishk-ah, what is it that you're trying to do, huh?" His head cocked to the side, his lips pursing somewhat as he started to go toward her. She growled, crouching slightly. Her leg muscles tensed, ready to flee if he advanced any further.

"It's Lace." She retorted with a slight scoff, not showing him how tense she was. He smacked his lips and chuckled, his shoulders bobbed up and down from the short bursts of hysteria. She scoffed, then darted as he took a quick step toward her. Every sense in her mind sparked with the sensation of fear.

"_Great, now look at what you've gotten us into, Lace,"_ Mishka's voice echoed throughout Lace's head. Lace sighed in frustration, hearing the heavy beats of footsteps running after her.

"Really? Mishka, now is definitely not the time for a lecture," Lace growled and rounded a corner quickly, her hand catching the side so she could steady herself.


	6. Fight and Breathe

Chapter 6

Lace knew they were considerably _fucked_ now; she could tell that she screwed up. How_ hadn't _she learned form the past? She was normally such a good learner, an acceptable student and an even more admirable soldier. The clown was catching up to them-fast.  
><em>Oh well, maybe this wouldn't be a bad day to die?<em> Lace questioned. She hadn't expected it to turn out this way, although if it wasn't for Mishka she would have never been caught. Their _Vans_ thudded softly on the tiled floor as their speed increased and Lace promised herself that she would keep them out of reach. This time, they wouldn't be caught, and this time he wouldn't claim them. She would make sure of that, even if it meant being out of breath. Which they were. _Gods, we're out of shape!_  
>"<em>Speak for yourself. I've maintained a beautiful and constant weight." <em>Mishka grunted out, her voice edged with nothing but clear offensiveness. Lace groaned and, taking a quick peek over her shoulder, sped up. The Joker, as she knew, was very fast and it always seemed to surprise her, he seemed so sluggish whenever he walked. Yet, here he was, only a few feet away from her. Above her, in large florescent lettering she saw an exit sign. Would this be an easy escape? She hoped it would be, but for now all she could do was hope until she experienced it.  
><em> OK, can we <em>not _argue about this while a crazy-man-dressed-up-like-a-clown is chasing us?!_ Lace grimaced as she rounded the corner, her shoulder smashing into the heavy door. She hissed a curse and pushed the door open only to feel a bruising grip on her arm yanking her back. She yelled in frustration and then grunted as she was suddenly slammed against the wall with a thud. She panted heavily, grimacing as a pounding headache grew.  
>"You, ah, know...you are really quite the <em> catch." <em>The Joker laughed, his head falling onto it's onslaught. She bared her teeth at him in a snarl. "Aw, what's, ah, what's wrong doll? Am I not _funny_ enough for you? You know you should really _smile_ more, I bet it would brighten your pretty little face right on up, hmm?"  
>"Fuck you." Lace spat, her heart pounding and her skin reddening. Betraying tears welded up in the corner of her striking green eyes. Once again she could hear the infamous voices begin to sing the song which always seemed to beckon them towards danger. It only sang out when he was close to them. Using all of her force Lace shoved the Joker away, quickly making her way out of the door which had been teasing her. The door slammed open, the alarm sounding through out the University. Mixed in with the alarm she could hear the terrifying sound of the Joker's laughter as she made a break for it.<p>

* * *

><p>2 hours later<p>

Lace slammed the door shut on her motel room and locked it. Feeling a rush of relief she rested her back against the poorly painted tan door. She slid down, her chest rising with each panicked pant. How had he found them? They had been careful enough; always making sure that they covered their tracks. But if that were so then how did he find them? The question still remained, still lurking behind the unknown fog of fate. What were they going to do now? It was obvious that they couldn't stay in the Motel for long, not without him finding them. After a few seconds of silence, the tension ever building, she bellowed. Her hands shielded her ears from the outer world as the memories and tears flowed out. Gods why couldn't he just leave them alone? Hadn't he done enough, save for Anna that was. Lace sobbed heavily, her hands clutching fistfuls of sweet ebony hair. How many had died at the University today? How much of it was their fault?  
>"Anna, please, if you can hear me...please..." Lace cried, her head falling between her knees. Her chest was tightening with remorse and anxiety.<br>"_See? This is why I never let you out. Anna is dead and gone, let her rest," _Mishka's voice was low but sympathetic, never managing to miss a nerve. Lace sniffed and gave a half-hearted shriek, tossing her shoe at the full body mirror which faced her. Glass instantly shattered, the floor now it's grave yard.  
>"What the hell are you talking about? She was our <em>sister!" <em>Lace growled, raking her long nails against the pale, fragile skin on her forearm. Red marks ascended into place and only a few minutes later she had broke through the skin. She began to bleed. Mishka yelled at her from inside her mind; yelling at her about how perfect their skin had been and how their skin was now ruined forever. _So tired...Anna...Mishka...I'm so...tired...  
><em> The darkness called out and she answered. Sleep slowly descended upon her and she so willingly gave in, not even caring that her arm burned or that their lives were in mortal danger. Instead she settled back into the room that was locked away inside her mind, happily letting Mishka take over again.


End file.
